


Thar Be Dragons

by basil_leaf



Series: SPN AU Bingo [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dragons, M/M, Prince!Gabriel, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basil_leaf/pseuds/basil_leaf
Summary: There is a dragon in the land so King Charles sends the royal Night Hunters out to dispatch the beast however, things may not be exactly as they seem and this quest might end up being more than Sam and Dean could have ever anticipated.**There's really not a whole lot of Sabriel in this... there's a lot of blatant flirting at the very end but that's about it**





	Thar Be Dragons

_Once upon a time in a far away land, a young prince lived with his family in a shining castle._

_One night a sorceress arrived at the palace, requesting an audience with the king but this was no ordinary magician.  She was a Dragon Mage, a master of the draconic arts.  She sought aid and sanctuary from King Charles but her petition was never heard.  As soon as she was brought before the king, he rebuffed her._

_The Dragon Mage tried to speak up, begging the king to hear her story and not be so hasty in his decree but one of the princes spoke over her._

_“Dragons are a danger to this kingdom,” he announced, “as is any magic invoking their powers.  You are not welcome here, enchantress.”  It was one of the younger princes, clearly trying to earn respect in the eyes of his older brothers and his father but, nevertheless, the words stung._

_“My son speaks out of turn,” the king reprimanded the boy lightly, “however, Prince Gabriel’s words are not untrue.  Leave this city and this kingdom.”_

_The mage retreated from the throne room but she stopped briefly in the doorway and turned back to the king and his sons.  “You will regret this, your highness,” she spat before locking her gaze with the golden eyed prince who had spoken up “you will regret this immensely.”  She turned with a flourish of her robes and strode out of the room, leaving the royal family and the gathered attendants feeling unsettled as she disappeared into the night._

_Once the court had settled down, King Charles dismissed them and guards accompanied the princes to their chambers.  Prince Gabriel joked and laughed with his detail as they traveled through the courtyard, allowing someone to move through the shadows unnoticed._

_The Dragon Mage sprang from where she had hidden herself, muttering ancient words as her eyes glowed brightly with power.  She raised her arms into the air before clapping them together and slicing through the air with her now joined hands, sending a jolt of magic straight at the prince.  A blinding light filled the courtyard and just as quickly as it had all happened, it was over._

_The guards attending the prince had been knocked backwards by the force of the magic.  More guards poured out of the palace, surrounding the place where the prince had stood seconds ago.  The King followed them into the courtyard, demanding they let him pass.  When he reached the place where his son had stood, King Charles fell to his knees.  “My son…”_

_Prince Gabriel was gone.  The Dragon Mage had exacted her deadly revenge and all that remained in place of the prince was the shadow of a dragon’s wings burnt into the ground._

…

“Bring me the Night Hunters.”

A hush and nervous anticipation fell over the crowd that had gathered in the throne room to hear the petitions brought before the king.  Every kingdom had at least one Night Hunter in its employ while others traveled the countryside aiding the smaller towns and hamlets that could not afford to have a permanent hunter in their midst but they were rarely called upon so openly.  However, news of a dragon terrorizing some of the kingdom’s villages - and stories of Night Hunters being turned into meals - called for expediency and decisiveness.  

Footsteps approached the throne room and the crowd parted as two tall men, the brothers Winchester, approached the king and took a knee, bowing their heads in respect.  

King Charles chuckled as he told the brothers to rise and the shorter of the pair blushed, knowing his eye roll at the formality of kneeling hadn’t been missed.  “Dean, Sam, thank you for coming with such haste,” the king greeted the Night Hunters.  “There are troubling stories coming from the westernmost parts of the kingdom of a wyrm.  The Crown and Kingdom require your assistance with this matter; I trust that you two will be able to handle it.”

The Night Hunters turned to one another and had a quiet discussion.  They, along with prophets, were among the only people in the kingdom who could reject a request from the king and not face repercussions.  After their brief conversation, the two men turned back to the king.  “We accept,” the shorter of the pair replied.  His voice rang out strong through the room and the gathered assembly seemed to let out a collective breath.  

The king nodded.  “Good,” he, too, seemed relieved.  “The head of the guard will give you any information known to the crown.”

After a brief meeting with the head of King Charles’ guard, which proved to be mostly unhelpful, the brothers departed the throne room.  They quietly slipped into the king’s private library, quickly and silently walking through the door and heading towards the back of the room.  This was a common first stop on the brothers’ hunting expeditions but they always needed to be careful.  No one was allowed in this room without the express permission of the king or a member of the royal family.  They had only been caught in the library once, by the king’s youngest son but Dean had handled it, sending the young man away with flushed cheeks after only a few whispered words.  

No trouble had come of that encounter but the hunters had been more careful ever since.  They quickly scanned the shelves for books that might be of use to them on this quest, pulling volumes from their places and stacking them on a table in the far back of the room where they would not be seen from the door and would have a chance to hide should they hear someone enter.  Once they had amassed a small collection, Sam sat down and began to skim the information.  The brothers had this part of their preparations down to a science, and Sam delved into the tomes with fervor as Dean finished looking through the collection of books.  

Nothing jumped out as being particularly useful in the first few books.  As a Night Hunter, much of the information provided in basic texts was already committed to memory.  He pushed the first books aside and reached for an older tome that Dean had placed on the table.  Sam flipped through the pages, looking for anything that jumped out at him.  It seemed to contain tales of previous encounters between the royal family and dragons dating back generations, long before King Charles had taken the throne.  The most recent entry, however, piqued Sam’s interest though it only tangentially pertained to their current quest.

“Dean,” he whispered, drawing his brother’s attention, “did you know that one of the king’s sons was killed by a Dragon Mage?”

Dean crossed the room and read over his brother’s shoulder.  “Prince Gabriel… We’ve been here for thirteen years and no one has ever even mentioned this guy,” Dean commented.

Sam nodded.  “Yeah, I mean, reading this, I understand why.  The whole thing sounds pretty brutal.”  

The brothers sat in silence for a time, continuing their research.  Sam couldn’t get the story of the young prince out of his head, though, and it remained in the back of his mind as he and his brother made their final preparations for their journey and took to their beds that night.

The tales of the dragon stemmed from the western regions of the kingdom so the hunters set out, putting the rising sun behind them as they rode toward the farming villages.  The pack Dean had slung across his prized black mare was practically bursting at the seams with weapons and potions, anything the older hunter thought might aid him and his brother in their quest.  The horse was as strong and as sturdy as she was beautiful, though, and was as graceful as always under the weight of the pack and her rider.  Sam, however, had packed lighter, opting for his bow and iron tipped arrows as well as a couple of the more potentially helpful books that he had been able to smuggle from the king’s library.

Now that they were on the open road, the brothers were able to speak more freely.  “The stories claim that the wyrm is bronze in color and, yet,” Sam mused, “according to the merchant who brought news to the king, it is a manipulative creature with the capability to light up the night sky with lightning.”

“So, a blue dragon,” Dean replied, pursing his lips in thought and nodding while he considered the implications.  “Either way,” he concluded, “I’m making myself some sweet ass armor after this.  Dragon scale armor!  Do you know how expensive that stuff is?  And we’re being paid to kill the thing!  I don’t care if I have to load so much onto Impala that I have to walk home, those scales are mine.”

Sam snorted at his brother’s excitement.  “Don’t forget, we have to kill the thing first,” he chuckled, “and according to the merchant who brought the news to the king it’s already killed three other hunters.  We’ve got to be smart about this one, Dean.”

Their banter continued as they made the four day trek to the western villages, camping along the way.  The brothers were accustomed to a certain life within the walls of the palace and they relished the opportunity to return to their hunting roots, spending their nights under the stars like they had with their father and, occasionally, their uncle as they traveled between villages and hunts.  As Sam and Dean drew near to the villages that were central in the dragon stories, the faces of the people grew grim.  Usually the arrival of a hunter sparked hope in a community but Sam noticed their faces darken upon their arrival.  Then, that night as they questioned a few people in the tavern, things got even stranger.

“I’m sorry you came all this way,” the innkeeper apologized, “but there’s no dragon problem here, not even a wyrmling.  I can’t fathom who might have told the king such a thing.”  The man looked around nervously, his eyes darting around the room, occasionally lingering on the window that faced the pastures and hills where the sheep grazed.  

Sam cleared his throat and the innkeeper’s attention shot back to the taller man.  

“We’re all booked up tonight, so I can’t offer you any rooms.  You may as well start your journey home.”  The innkeeper’s voice was cold and Sam couldn’t fathom why but he brushed it off, hoping Dean had managed to have more luck with the tanner’s daughter.  He scanned the tavern, looking for his brother and signed when he caught sight of him.

Dean was leaning forward with a flirty smile on his face and his hand covered the young woman’s hand.  Sam walked over to where they were sitting, his towering presence drawing attention.  The tanner’s daughter puller her hand away from Dean’s as her cheeks flushed and Dean winked as he excused himself.

“What’d you find out?” Dean asked, not as annoyed at the interruption as Sam had expected.

“It’s the things I didn’t learn that I find more interesting,” Sam replied as he moved towards the tavern’s exit, trusting Dean to follow.  Once they were away from listening ears, he continued.  “According to the innkeeper, there is no wyrm.”

“What?”

“I know.  So, get this, he claims he doesn’t know why anyone would tell the king there was a wyrm, and, apparently, there aren’t any rooms available in town,” Sam relayed his conversation to his brother, “and he was really shifty about the whole thing.”

Dean’s brows knit together in thought.  “This little barely-a-village on the western outskirts of the kingdom is booked full?  We’re here on the king’s business, it’s unlawful for them to not provide us lodging if there’s any available.”

Sam nodded in agreement.  “Something isn’t adding up, here.  Did you get anything besides a bed-mate from the tanner’s daughter?  You know, anything actually useful?”

Dean smirked.  “Just because you get weird around girls doesn’t mean you can mock me,” he snickered.  “If you hadn’t interrupted, it would have been a sure thing.  She said they hadn’t needed to call for a Night Hunter in the past year.  Add in our royal standing and there’s no way she wouldn’t have…”

“Wait, they haven’t… No hunters in a year?” Sam asked, not caring about the rest of his brother’s whining.  “How?  This part of the kingdom is supposed to be home to a particularly nasty tribe of changelings, not to mention the run of the mill werewolf and shifter jobs that plague the land…” Sam’s mind was reeling.  They were missing something, he was sure of it, and he was positive that whatever it was, it would blow the case wide open, like a battering ram against a thin wooden door.  “Did she say anything else?” he asked, quickly adding, “about the dragon?” when he caught the glint in his brother’s eye.

Dean huffed a breath through his nose.  “She had been very responsive but when I asked about it, she shut down.  She was finally starting to open up again when you came over… Something’s not right.”  Silence fell between the brothers as they both tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together.  “We may as well make camp,” Dean suggested.  “I want to be damn sure there’s no dragon before we go to tell Chuck it was all in jest.  The man is not going to be happy.”

The moon was high in the sky when the brothers finally settled in on the outskirts of the village.  The moon was full and illuminated the ground as stars shone overhead.  Sam and Dean had elected to camp on the edge of a pasture where their fire wouldn’t be noticed among the scattered fires of the local shepherds.  After the odd reception they had received earlier, the Night Hunters had decided it would be best to draw as little attention to themselves as possible.

As the settled in for the night, a hoarse voice interrupted them.  

“Have you added your tribute?”

Dean’s head shot up.  “What?”

A timid, young shepherd came into the circle of warmth the brother’s fire provided.  “Have you brought your sheep over to the tribute area?”  He spoke slowly. As if he were speaking to a child.

“Oh, my brother was just about to go and do that,” Dean replied, indicating Sam who was poking at the fire.  “Actually, though, we’ve been holding off.  It’s embarrassing but we’re new to these pastures, working for the innkeeper, and we can’t remember where we need to leave the tribute.”

The shepherd boy took in the scene in front of him.  “The… innkeeper?”

Sam stood from where he had been crouching at the fire.  “He’s uh, he’s branching out, and we came out to help our uncle until he can find some more permanent assistance,” Sam assured the youth with a friendly smile.  “Now, why don’t you show me where I need to take our tribute.”  

As the pair walked off, Dean crouched down and quietly followed.  “You know,” he heard Sam say, “you seem like a strong young man, our uncle could use a shepherd like you.  You should talk with him when he starts looking for people in a few weeks.”  By the light of the moon, Dean could see the boy nod in awe at Sam’s words.  

They walked for another few minutes before the boy stopped.  “The tribute goes over there,” he told Sam, pointing to a group of sheep that were milling about without anyone watching over them.  “You leave your tribute and then get back to your fire.  My dad says the less people that see him, the better.”

Sam agreed that he’d leave the sheep and head right back to his brother and the boy scampered off.  Sam turned, unsurprised to fine Dean waiting in the tall grass that surrounded the area where the sheep were waiting.  Sam laid down in the grass beside his brother.  “You think the tributes are for the dragon?”

Dean nodded.  “I don’t know what else it could be.  Though, I guess we’ll find out for sure soon enough.”  

The brothers waited quietly.  They didn’t want any of the shepherds to find them watching the tribute and they weren’t sure how much noise would be too much so they kept their silence.  They kept time by tracking the moon’s journey through the sky and about two hours after the shepherd boy had run off, their wait paid off.

Sam saw it first, a glint in the sky closer than any star and growing larger by the second.  He knew the moment his brother saw the creature, too, and he put a calming hand on his shoulder.  He could tell that Dean wanted to run into battle now but neither of them had come prepared; they would only gain knowledge tonight.

The brothers watched as the wyrm swooped down into the clearing and Dean’s eyes widened as Sam quietly gasped in response.  It wasn’t blue, like they had expected, or even bronze, though Sam could see why the merchant had thought so.  The dragon was gold.  It was small for its species but, up close, there was no mistaking it for anything but a gold dragon.  The wyrm corralled the sheep that had been left for it, scooped them up in its claws and flew off back where it had come from.

Sam watched it go.  He took note of where he saw it land, knowing Dean would be doing the same, and then the brothers quietly made their way back to their camp.  They spent the rest of the night planning in hushed voices.

Early the next morning, they broke down their camp and carefully made their way through the hills, walking their horses and trying not to be seen by too many of the tired shepherds.  Once they were clear of the pastures, they mounted up and went over their plan again.  Or, really, they went over Dean’s plan.

They were going to scout out the wyrm’s lair, finding all of the entrances.  They would pick the two least conspicuous and creep in, hoping to ambush the creature while it slept.  If it wasn’t asleep, Sam was to provide a distraction while Dean used one of his potions to deal an icy blow to the wyrm, weakening it enough for their weapons to finish the job.

“Something still doesn’t feel right, Dean,” Sam complained.  “It’s obviously protecting the villages out here, which tracks with a gold dragon, but taking sheep as a tribute?  That’s not how gold’s operate.  Gold dragons don’t eat living creatures.”

Dean stopped Impala and glared at his brother.  “Chuck sent us out here to kill the thing, not study it, Sam.  I’m not going back to the castle to announce that, yes, there was a dragon but, no, we didn’t kill it because it was acting weird.  I’m not putting my neck on the line for some research that might go nowhere.”  He rode off, putting some distance between himself and his brother as they continued their journey toward the dragon’s lair.  

It was just past midday when the hunters reached the area where they had seen the dragon land the night before.  They dismounted and hobbled their horses, slinging their packs onto their backs as their eyes scanned the hills for any anomalies in the terrain: a collapsed hill, a pile of boulders, anything that might indicate a wyrm was living in the area.  

“Gold dragons generally prefer secluded lairs,” Sam reminded his brother, his voice barely a whisper as he split off from Dean, walking toward a pile of rocks, large enough to shield him but not anywhere near big enough to hide a dragon.  He peeked out around the rocks and was surprised by what he saw.  The wyrm was there, down in a valley, but it looked like… The dragon was using its breath to roast the sheep it had collected from the shepherds.  Gold dragons didn’t eat living creatures but no wyrms cooked their food.  He watched the creature for a few more minutes, taking it all in and noticing that the dragon seemed to favor one of its hind legs as it moved around.  Something dark was mixed in with it’s shining scales and, whatever it was, it seemed to be painful.

Sam waved Dean over to where he was standing.  “I’m telling you, something’s not right here,” he told his brother one last time before Dean peered around the rocks.

Dean scouted the scene before dropping his pack and digging through it.  He pulled out the ice potion as well as a few other things and stood.  “Looks like it’s plan B, Sammy!  Go distract the thing.”  Dean was grinning.  He had always loved the thrill of battle and Sam sometimes wondered if his brother wouldn’t have been happier as a soldier or even a member of the king’s guard.  Dean’s passion and tenacity served him well as a Night Hunter, too, though, and Sam knew it was one of the reasons they had risen so high in their field.  

Sam took his bow and snuck out from behind the rock, working his way down into the valley as carefully as he could.  He didn’t like this plan but Dean was right, as soon as they had accepted the hunt from the king, there was no going back, the wyrm must be dealt with.  He crept closer and closer, notching one of his arrows and aiming at some loose dirt above the dragon’s lair.  Sam loosed his arrow and the dirt pounded down startling the dragon and drawing its attention away from where Dean would be setting up his blast.  

The dark mark on the dragon’s haunch caught Sam’s eye again as the wyrm turned to the pile of dirt and Sam realized that it wasn’t one of the dragon’s scales.  He moved in closer, drawn in by the odd mark and realized that something was piercing the dragon’s hide.  Sam heard, rather than saw, Dean release the cold blast of power and he frantically looked for cover.  

The dragon must have sensed that Sam was near.  Instead of dodging the attack Dean had released, the wyrm shifted itself, blocking the hunter from the icy blast and taking the full force of the damage upon itself.  The dragon was protecting him, one of the beings sent to destroy it, Sam realized and his wonder of the creature only grew.  The caught sight of his brother as he drew his weapon and prepared to attack the weakened wyrm.

“DEAN! NO!” Sam yelled as his brother ran toward the dragon, his sword poised to strike.  Something was wrong and Sam needed to figure out what it was.  The dragon wasn’t behaving properly.  There was no horde, no rage… it wasn’t even defending itself.  Gold dragons weren’t known for being particularly evil but a blatant, unprovoked, attack like this should have drawn some ire.  

Sam’s shout had distracted Dean enough that his blow glanced off of the dragon’s hide.  He glared at his brother, who was approaching the wyrm, no weapon in hand.  “Sammy, what the hell are you doing?” Dean hissed as he readied for another strike.  

The dragon’s eyes followed Sam as he walked up to the creature and gently touched it’s scales around it’s injured haunch.  Sam grasped the thing that pierced the wyrm’s hide.  It was cold to the touch but also burned hot all at once.  He could tell that a dark magic ran through the item and he wanted nothing more than to be far away from it.  Sam pushed down the desire to retreat and gripped the thing tightly, pulling with all of his strength.  

Suddenly, the item became dislodged from the dragon’s flesh and scales.  A roar echoed through the valley as Sam stumbled backwards, tripping over his pack and falling to the ground before everything around him went black.

When Sam came to, he heard voices.  He was still on the hard earth and Dean wasn’t hovering over him so he figured he must not have been out for long.  

“Who the hell are you and what did you do to my brother?” Dean asked, his words laced with fury.

Someone sighed.  “Has it been so long that everyone’s forgotten me?” an unfamiliar voice asked.  The man sounded like he was both elated and saddened, an odd combination, and Sam struggled to get to his feet and see what was going on.  The sounds drew the attention of both Dean and the man.

“Sam!”  Dean rushed past the man to help Sam up and the taller hunter was grateful for the assistance.  He was still feeling a little woozy from hitting his head against the ground.  

The man turned to the brothers.  “Well, that’s your second question answered.  Looks like the giant will be fine,” he joked.  “And, as for your first question… I am Prince Gabriel.  And you,” he said, looking directly at Sam, “are my knight in shining armor.”

“You… You’re the wyrm,” Sam realized, taking in the man’s golden hair and eyes.

Gabriel smiled and nodded.  “I was but you broke the curse.”  He approached the brothers and tucked himself under Sam’s free arm, helping to support him.  “So now we get to live happily ever after, if the stories my mother told my brothers and I when we were children are to be believed.”  The prince winked up at Sam and smiled brightly when he saw the hunter’s cheeks darken.  “Oh, this is going to be fun…”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been crossposted from my tumblr @revwinchester. If you like what you're reading, leave a comment or a kudos!


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